


Everybody loves John

by Half_Fallen



Category: System of a Down (Band)
Genre: Angst, Blow Jobs, But everyone is so supportive and well provocative, Confused John, Fluff, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, Internalized Homophobia, John is a Mess, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Slow Build, coming to terms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 19:02:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28836006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Half_Fallen/pseuds/Half_Fallen
Summary: In many occasions Daron would be in some corner, wearing one of Serj’s or Shavo’s baggy shirts or sweaters that would reach Daron mid thigh or even lower. He hoped he was wearing shorts under those, but he was quite afraid that was not the case. He’d follow the boys around with his eyes that would stare at Daron with hungry looks and he could relate as he tried not to do the same.Some sadness would fill his lungs up like water as he knew none of the guys would ever look at him like that. He was too big, too awkward, his face too wide, too unattractive. His eyes weren’t near as expressive as Daron’s, his mind wasn’t close as brilliant, his spirit not near as artistic, fingers nowhere close being as talented. John was… just John, and there was no way around it.OR: The one where John is deeply in love with his band mates, but doesn't see that they love him back.
Relationships: John Dolmayan/Daron Malakian/Shavo Odadjian/Serj Tankian
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	Everybody loves John

(Even though sometimes he cannot see it)

John has always thought of himself as someone rational. Being rational for John had the meaning of being quite conservative in the way he lived life. He was born and raised in a family that taught him that the value of a man depends highly on the type of family life he leads, how much he provides, how respected he is. It made sense to John, hell it was the beat of his heart.

Growing up he would often fall asleep imagining a picture perfect marriage, an idea of a beautiful wife and kids, white picket fence, a dog… it made sense to John, it aspired him to work harder, be better, stay concentrated.

As a teen John was difficult, but not impossible. Despite the defying attitude, the doors slamming a bit too loudly due to his ever growing muscle power, John wouldn’t get into fights, get drunk or stay out past his curfew. His parents would take pride of him as they bickered about his self-discipline to their relatives, neighbors or whoever wanted to listen.

At the age of ten he falls in love for the first time with a set of drums.

At the age of thirteen he falls in love with a guy named Bryan.

It’s the purest form of puppy love. John is so careful around the boy, listening to every word he says with such attention. They spend the summer holidays together, meeting almost every day and one week before school starts he kisses the boy.

He moves to LA the next day.

At the age of fourteen the idea of a picture perfect family gets morphed into something indefinite, lost and tinted through all the anguish he feels inside about so many things. Most of all, he feels guilt.

The child his parents show off so much about is a filthy faggot, he thinks ironically as he has to sit yet through another family meeting.

At the age of sixteen he violently tries to convince himself it is the girl he is staring at through whatever porn he is watching. He knows it’s not true.

By the age of 17 he knows he will end up alone in life. No one would want someone like him. People like him don’t get to have families, they don’t get to marry and have children. He plays drums until his hands are shaking so hard they cannot even hold the drum sticks. He plays to forget. And maybe, just maybe, if the sounds of the drums are loud enough, maybe they can drown the sound of his head too along with his tears.

By the age of 21 he starts frequenting strip clubs, wandering, praying for love in a lap dance, crying himself to sleep.

*

Getting to play for System of a Down it is liberating and a nightmare altogether. The band is so different from the one he was previously in; they are talented, visionary guys that seem to have a future, yet their liberty of mind and spirit seems to trigger some sort of feelings he cannot put to words.

The weird nature of the band comes to vision as soon as day one. Everyone in there has a very different personality and way of expression, and though John has seen them around before of even hung out with them, at first glance they do not seem like people who would play metal.

Currently speaking Daron sits on a chair in front of them playing some cords to a poem Serj wrote and while John is calculating in his head the drums and how they should be it does not go unnoticed how Daron’s hands barely peak through the acid washed jean jacket that is several sizes too big on him. He does not miss the pointed looks Shavo gives the boy as well. He is pretty sure he has seen that jacket on Shavo before, but he shrugs it off as a coincidence and continues to calculate beats.

At some point Serj gets up from the couch to stand behind the boy. He grabs the neck of the guitar to a certain pair of chords and Daron’s right hand as he pulls the strings.

“I think that sounds much better, don’t you think Dar?” This time it doesn’t go unnoticed by John how Serj’s hand lingers a bit too much on Daron’s, faces too close together, or how Daron is looking at him, not even breathing as the faintest blush creeps up his cheeks.

“That’s pretty good.” Shavo says from beside him, snapping John out of his thoughts once again.

“I need a smoke,” Daron says as he gets up and Serj moves backwards to create space for him. “you guys taking five off?” Shavo nods and gets up, grabbing his jacket on the go.

“C’mon John,” Serj says, “that brain of yours is going to go up in flames one of these days. I can feel it.” John chuckles at that and they make it out of the studio to the emergency stairs.

“You don’t smoke?” Shavo raises an eyebrow at him as teeth flash themselves into a predatory smile as Serj leans towards him with a lighted lighter and his hand cupped around it.

“I’m not feeling like it right now.” John shrugs and Shavo squints his eyes at him in this way that makes John feel as though he’s transparent. He crosses his arms over his chest in a failed attempt to cover himself. _Cover myself from what?_

Daron says something that John cannot decipher and laughs in that shy, timid way he does with a dragged yet withheld sound. Shavo seems to laugh at whatever he said, never taking the eyes off the younger. When John turns to look at Serj he is doing the same.

Some feeling creeps up his chest and he wishes he had stayed in the couch.

*

Daron comes to recording with a busted nose and blonde hair. His eyeliner looks smudged from possible tears and his tight clothing somewhat ruffled.

“Fuck, man, you ok?” John gasps as he stands immediately and approaches Daron. Serj is on his toes before John can blink.

“Daron, shit man, what happened?! Who did this to you?” the taller demands. Daron stays there, by the door unsure, like he doesn’t want to talk about it. There is worry in Serj’s voice and John has never seen him like this before in his life. Apparently by the look in Daron’s eyes, he hasn’t seen Serj like that ever either.

“Serj,” John tries calmly. The taller looks bigger than he actually is, shoulders squared in what John knows to be self defense, eyes bulging, breathing hard. Although he understands the worry, the posture seems to be putting Daron off.

“Tell me who did this to you, Daron.” Serj says louder, completely shutting John out.

“It’s nothing, man, I-” Daron starts, but Serj cuts him off again.

“It doesn’t look like nothing. Did they hurt you? What happened?” John can sense the anger in the taller one’s voice and tries to grab his arm and push him away.

“Serj, come on, man. Give him space.” Serj retracts his arm back forcefully and then looks at Daron who looks at the verge of crying. It is so uncharacteristic, John thinks offhandedly, looking at the two.

Serj then seems to come to his senses and stops dead in his tracks. “I’m sorry,” he says and Daron only shakes his head. There seems to be some sort of undertones, wordless understanding that John cannot catch up on and Serj storms out in a way that confuses both of them further and leaves Daron by the door where he has been staying since he showed up that day.

“Come on,” John tries again, softer this time. “Let’s patch you up, man.” Daron nods and sits timidly on the couch. John doesn’t know what happened, but from the new hair and busted nose he might have a good idea.

His blood boils as he searches for the first aid kit that the recording studio must have somewhere. He feels the same amount of anger Serj must have felt upon looking at Daron and he tries to conceal it not to disturb the younger any further. He wants to huff in disbelief. Daron is the firecracker of the group. He is loud and mouthy, nasty and ready to throw hands despite his tiny frame… seeing him like this doesn’t sit right with John.

The nose doesn’t seem broken to John’s relief, and he tries to clean it as best as he can, while he tries not to flinch with every painful hiss he gets from Daron.

His heart, however, breaks further when Daron is silent for the rest of the day.

He doesn’t want to be the one explaining the situation to Shavo. He knows Shavo will find out one way or another, though.

“Thank you, man.” Daron says after some time spent in silence while John pretends to be busy thinking so he doesn’t make it any more awkward for the younger. He raises his eyes to meet the younger’s and he is faintly smiling, attitude somewhat back, all shiny eyes. John smiles at that.

“Don’t even mention it.” He can hear Shavo and Serj from the emergency stairs and a faint anxiety creeps at the back of his brain. He does not know why.

*

The warm air in Serj’s living room smells strongly of weed and cigarettes. John sits at the corner of Serj’s couch, holding a beer that has started to warm up by his clammy hands. It’s funny how he feels nervous when the idea was to unwind and have a good time.

It had been Daron’s idea. He had said it casually one day during their random jamming, complaining about how they rarely saw each other outside of the studio. Shavo has been quick to approve the idea and Serj had proposed they spent a guys’ night at his flat.

It was your normal, cramped LA rented flat, but something about the way Serj has it arranged makes it look much bigger, much lighter and spacious than it really is. White walls filled art that John believes it’s Serj’s, minimal furniture, a butt load of cactuses and John has the feeling that if he checks there might even be a bamboo toothbrush. It makes sense in a way that makes the drummer question the duality of the singer’s figure in his head. In his own place, Serj looks calm and laid back, something about the way he moves feels artistic in a very ‘sleepy lion’ type of way and if John could write he surely would spill paragraphs in paper.

Shavo is in the other couch rolling a blunt as Daron is shirtless moving his head to the background music. The heat of LA spring is just around the corner, smelling of flowers, inspiration and gasoline.

“You wanna do the honors?” Shavo asks John, offering the freshly made blunt with an outstretched arm. His half lidded eyes stare right through him making John feel like he is a deer caught in headlights. He has no idea why he feels the way he does when Shavo looks at him. Some small part of his brain feels like Shavo is always looking for something, always searching for secrets.

“Nah man, thanks. I don’t smoke that.” He says with a polite smile and a gasp is heard from Daron.

“But me and Shavo drove all the way to get it! Have you at least tried it?” He is looking at John, undivided attention and big eyes and John swallows.

“No.” He answers simply, lips in a thin line, dark eyes challenging. It seems to catch their attention.

“What’s that? Little Johnny boy never smoked weed?”Serj laughs as he plops down in the couch by John’s side holding a cold beer.

“He’s lying, man. I can never in a million years buy that. What’s next, Little Johnny’s a virgin too?” Daron bursts out laughing.

“Fuck you, man!” John flips him off as he blushes faintly and that’s the cue for Serj and Daron to tease him further. John doesn’t have enough fingers to flip them off. In the middle of all the teasing he notices Shavo staring at him with a raised eyebrow. He smirks when he notices John’s eyes on him, a smirk that stretches into a toothy predatory smile that makes John visibly gulp.

“Well, in that case,” Shavo begins, “We have to pop your cherry.” John is mortified for a second but then easies into an awkward laugh as Serj snickers and Daron wails into some kind of ugly laughter John has never heard before.

Shavo puts the blunt between his lips, leaving it hanging slightly as his hands work on the lighter, he lights it twice and the blows at the end and takes a drag, smoke escaping his lips as he draws his head back exposing white soft skin that John wants to- no!

Not now, not with his band mates, not with anyone. He takes a sip of his already warm beer, sends his head back in similar fashion as Shavo and closes his eyes. When he opens them again Serj is nudging him while holding the blunt that seems to have been passed around.

“You wanna try this one time?” His eyes are kind as he says that, soft eyebrows raised in a suggestive way. “It helps you unwind.” His voice alone is so calming, to the point that if he closes his eyes he will fall asleep.

He takes the blunt from Serj, fingers brushing his in the process, and John really tries to forget the shudder that passed his whole body as he takes a long drag.

He has no time to think as he spirals into a fit of coughing, his vision dressed in tears as his lungs feel lit on fire.

“Hey, it’s ok.” He feels a comforting hand on his back. He can hear Daron laughing in the background, that cheeky bastard, he thinks with no malice.

“That’s gonna be the first times for you, Johnny boy.” Shavo says and John raises his head to look at him. “Who said I am gonna do this again?” He asks through the dizziness of his vision.

Shavo laughs then, followed by Daron and Serj and this time John laughs too, worries slowly leaving him.

*

John has no trouble falling asleep, the rest of the band found that out soon enough.

Hell, the guy could sleep soundly through a war.

Serj has been staring at him for a while now, undecided whether he’s kidding or actually sleeping. They had been in the middle of a conversation about something, Serj’s back momentarily turned at him as he searched for a pair of headphones. John has been in the middle of his sentence, taking one abnormally long pause and when Serj turns to look at him, he seemed to have passed out in the couch.

Smiling Serj takes a blanket and drapes it over John’s sleeping form.

John stirs a bit in his sleep, hands clutching at the blanket as he breathes deelply.

Serj wants to caress his head.

If John wakes up later that day in a slightly better mood and keeps a smile on his face for the rest of the day, no one comments on it.

*

He doesn’t know how feel about the makeup. No, he doesn’t know how to feel about Daron’s makeup.

Men do not wear makeup, they do not dye their hair either. He had learned that very well at a young age when he had grabbed for his mother’s red lipstick. He believes to have been eight at the time, standing on his tippy toes to be able to reach the bathroom mirror as unsteady hands held the lipstick tube. He doesn’t remember much, but the scowl of his father and the anxious look of his mother are burned on his mind to this day. The whole memory sends chills down his spine as it feels like he still hear the echoing of the slap chased by the taste of his own tears.

Daron, on the other hand, seems to be so chill about it all. He doesn’t only wear make up on stage only, having come to the studio with eyeliner in more than one occasion. He is always out there experimenting, taking the makeup concept further from the rock star thing and looking better than most girls he knows with it on.

Daron stands in front of him twirling a lollipop between finely manicured, thin fingers as he talks to Serj, looking up at him every so often due to their height differences. Serj is looking at him the way a wolf would look at their prey, teeth sharp, attention focused on him only. Daron seems to be enjoying it all, sucking on the pink lollipop, keeping his head low and his eyes upwards. John wonders what those lips would look like wrapped around something else.

As if on cue Daron looks sideways at him, his lips making a popping sound as the lollipop comes out. The fucker smirks then, knowing he has captured John’s full attention. John freezes where he’s standing, blush slowly creeping up his cheeks. The eye contact is over as soon as it begins, Daron turning his whole attention at Serj who cracks a joke John cannot hear from where he’s standing. Some unpleasant feeling creeps up his chest as he starts feeling uneasy. Daron giggles in a soft voice that makes John want to do unholy things to him.

He gets up and exits the room.

*

Daron has a habit of wearing clothes that do not belong to him.

At first John shrugged it off as coincidences, maybe the clothes looked similar. Once on tour he realized that was not the case.

In many occasions Daron would be in some corner, wearing one of Serj’s or Shavo’s baggy shirts or sweaters that would reach Daron mid thigh or even lower. He hoped he was wearing shorts under those, but he was quite afraid that was not the case. He’d follow the boys around with his eyes that would stare at Daron with hungry looks and he could relate as he tried not to do the same.

Some sadness would fill his lungs up like water as he knew none of the guys would ever look at him like that. He was too big, too awkward, his face too wide, too unattractive. His eyes weren’t near as expressive as Daron’s, his mind wasn’t close as brilliant, his spirit not near as artistic, fingers nowhere close being as talented. John was… just John, and there was no way around it.

But then again there had to be something wrong with it all, right? He tried to tell himself that it was all in his head. The guys weren’t really paying Daron that much mind. His head was just so twisted and disgusting and couldn’t help making everybody else seem the way he was. That was just Daron being innocent and oblivious, right? Right?

In the end of the day he was left answerless and in more occasions than not, teary eyed.

*

A very sleepy Daron casually enters the area they have come to know in the bus as the living room/ kitchen wearing one of John’s hoodies. It’s the big, warm one in the color of blue periwinkle, a word that John totally does not know and if someone asks him he’ll say it’s just blue.

Yawning he opens the fridge, pulling out a bottle of water that he sets in the counter as the roaming around continues. Daron pulls out a Styrofoam box and it seems to have what he wants as his eyes shine upon opening it. Closing the door with his hip he sits in front of John.

“Morning, princess.” John teases as his eyes roam Daron’s figure. The hoodie looks well slept in and there’s no accidental way Daron might have grabbed it unless he searched specifically for it through John’s things. His breath hitches a little upon thinking that.

Daron pays no mind to John as he opens the bottle and starts drinking water as John’s eyes drink in the pale skin of Daron’s neck and its movements.

“Morning.” He responds as he sets the bottle down, his voice groggy and laced in sleep. His eyes shine again upon opening the white box and he pulls out a single grape and eats it. He looks so absolutely adorable like that, his pink hair contrasting with the blue of John’s hoodie. There is such delicacy in the way he holds his hands, pale green veins slightly peeking through milky skin. John’s heart skips a beat.

Serj comes into vision, looking in similar condition as Daron, seeing as he finally has gotten some sleep in his system. John notices the way Daron looks at the older, similar to the way he had just been adoring the grape and dread starts seeping through John. It’s too early for this, he reminds himself. He sits beside John, greeting the guys.

“Finally slept?” John, asks. Serj looks so soft like this, hair carelessly going every direction, facial features soft, wrinkles caused by thinking smoothed out.

Serj hums in a low voice that turns into a yawn and then into stretching that finally ends up with an arm around John. The latter forgets how to breathe for a split second as Serj rests his head in John’s shoulder. The angle is a bit awkward and all, but Serj is so warm and he smells so good.

“Thanks, man, you smell good too.” Serj responds through a giggle and John freezes.

“Awwwh, you guys are just so cute,” Daron says through his nasal tone while smiling softly at them. John wants to run, wants to get up and as far away as he can from them… but at the same time he wants to remain forever in Serj’s embrace. Everything feels so warm… he feels loved. Almost.

“I see y’all fuckers turned up for morning cuddles.” Shavo says with a smile as he sits by Daron’s side throwing his arms around him and nuzzles his face in John’s hoodie. It has a pretty quick reaction on John who swallows visibly.

“What got you smelling so nice today?” Shavo asks Daron while creating eyes contact with John. He looks at him in such way that’s so raw, so predatory, yet so Shavo. His never leaving eye bags say quite a bit about his sleeping patterns and John low key wants to help.

“Fuck, you. I always smell good.” Daron bickers, jabbing at Shavo’s side and Shavo yelps, retracting from the younger while laughing. He lights up a cigarette and takes a long drag from it, moving to rest his elbows on the table. John scrunches his nose up at the smell. Shavo stares at him again, the way he usually does, without even blinking and it’s moments like this where John feels really uncomfortable in his own skin. Serj stands still by his side, his presence ever so calming while everyone seems to fall into a comfortable silence.

It is indeed a weird morning, John thinks. He wishes more mornings could be like this.

Later that day, when the night falls, he pretends he does not notice that the hoodie he wears to sleep is the one Daron was wearing during the day. Darons faint scent calms him down, lulls him to sleep right away. He hopes the boys won’t notice.

_~~They do.~~ _ ~~~~

*

Serj loves coffee.

Black, two sugars, no creamer.

John pretends he gets his coffee everyday right by coincidence.

Serj never fails to smile warmly at that.

*

He has come to the conclusion that Daron wears his clothes to spite him. John pretends to be annoyed by it as he casually leaves a hoodie or a sweater unguarded on his bunk bed. 

*

John’s breath hitches as he moves his hand faster around his cock, toes curling. He puts an elbow over his mouth as he picks up his speed. He’s close.

Big hands pushing him down flash behind his closed eyes like lightning. They hold him down, wrap around his throat. Predatory teeth bite down in his skin as a pair of eyes stare right through his soul. John comes over his hand just like that, with a muffled moan. It takes a few moments to come to his senses.

*

They’re walking away from a gig in LA, as the next band prepares to start playing when someone in the crowd shouts.

“Fucking faggots! Get the fuck out of here.” John turns to look at the guy, blood boiling, fists already forming as his shoulders square up.

“Come suck my dick, sweetheart!” Daron yells back, flipping the guy off, as Serj is fast enough to get himself between John and the crowd while Shavo urges them to continue walking.

They make it out of there in no time, but the guy’s words echo in his head long after.

He plays drums harder than he has in a long time. He can see the guys standing at the doorway from the corner of his eye, none of them brave enough to walk in. His drums aren’t loud enough to drown his own head.

Shavo comes in, after what feels like hours and leaves take out by his side. It feels like a truce offering. A truce with no war.

John continues playing, eyebrows furrowing in a frown as he moves his muscles with much more force, more anger, much more strain, cramps starting to cause pain to his arms. _Good_ , he thinks, _let them burn_.

His drumstick gives up, breaking in half under his fury. John stops then, throwing the broken stick angrily away, conscious he is making a scene out of this, in front of Shavo too.

Shavo just stands there, looking at him in this way that screams _I understand_ , but does he really? If so, what exactly does he understand? The self loathing? The feeling that in the end of the day he is, indeed, nothing but a goddamn faggot? The fact that he feels such beautiful feelings for his band mates that are twisted and disgusting and so raw? If Shavo really understood he’d run.

Shavo just stands there, looking at him with such kind eyes.

John just wants to disappear.

-

It takes a while for John to calm down, the rest of the band seem to give him space for which he is grateful.

When he finally decides to come out, the guys are standing in the small living room. Their eyes seem to light up upon seeing him enter.

“Thanks for the food.” He says to Shavo and Shavo nods. There seems to be no smart comeback from Daron, no pensive thought from Serj. It’s oddly quiet in a way that does not speak of any anger or malice in the boys, only understanding, only support. John wants to be pissed off further.

He sits on the couch, muscles tense, neck taught. He almost doesn’t notice how Daron is wearing another one of his shirts. He wants to scream, break something… someone. He has never felt so dangerous around the boys before, but he realizes now that it would be best if he left.

He does not feel Serj coming behind him, as big hands grab his shoulders from behind. John startles, jumping a bit, mind still in fight or flight mode, but relaxes seconds after when Serj’s fingers start kneading his muscles, working through his tension. John lifts his head up to look at Serj and in return the older smiles softly, in a way that makes John calm down, in a way that makes John feel safe.

He can feel his shoulders slumping down, as his mind takes a breather, as anger leaves him. Serj is doing something to him that no one else has ever had the power to do. It’s working.

Anger leaves way to exhaustion. His arms feel burnt out. John doubts if he can barely even move them anymore. Serj moves further up at the base of his skull, working the muscles that are there, making John’s eyes roll at the back of his skull.

Serj continues working on his muscles for some time, until there is not a hair of anger left in him.

Shavo comes into vision bringing food, again, and urging him to eat. Daron just stays there, further away from everyone, pensive. A twinge of guilt flashes hot and burning through his chest, but he didn’t do anything that might have caused it.

The day is uneventful after that.

*

Daron doesn’t eat enough, doesn’t sleep enough.

Unlike Shavo, who is thin by nature and won’t gain weight no matter how much he eats, because weed works that way, Daron won’t gain because he doesn’t eat.

Perhaps it’s the drugs he’s on lately, taking him so high then dropping him so fast down that he forgets to take care of himself. Perhaps it’s just plain neglect. Perhaps it happens during the times that he is so caught up writing that John worries he doesn’t even breathe enough. Whatever it might be, Daron is not good at taking care of himself and it makes John worry.

The boys seem to have noticed it too. Shavo always buys extra food for all of them, but makes specifically sure that Daron eats. Serj is less subtle in his caring, rougher as he voices his complaints through scowls and tries to put some sense into the younger. Daron is much more vocal then.

He wonders if the guys would care as much if he pulled off something similar, if he stopped caring all together… no, Daron doesn’t do it for attention, he does it because he’s an idiot and still a starry eyed child with his head so lost up high in the universe that he forgets to take care of his mortal flesh suit.

John feels a constant urge to protect the younger, knowing full well that the mouthy firecracker wouldn’t take any of that had he known what goes on in John’s head.

He starts leaving bottles of water by Daron’s bed whenever he wakes up before him, buys sweets that he doesn’t eat at grocery stores that later get gobbled down by the younger and starts switching whiskey bottles with filtered coffee.

It works well enough for a while… until it doesn’t.

-

They’re laying on Serj’s living room once again, coffee table moved to the side to make way for the four boys sitting on the floor. They’ve been passing a bong around that Shavo has brought along and John cannot even smoke a blunt let alone a bong, but after a few fits of coughing and some teasing from both Shavo and Daron he finds anxiety slowly leaving him as a fit of laughter takes its place.

Shavo is sitting right next to him, his presence so close John can feel his body warmth. He giggles, reason not known and Shavo joins him.

“Didn’t think I’ll ever say this to you,” Daron starts, moving from where he is sitting by his side to lay his head down on John’s lap, “but, you’re not as bad as I thought you were be in the beginning.” He breathes out some remaining smoke in his lungs and tries to get comfortable in John’s lap with a giggle.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” John asks. Daron looks pretty high, eyes glazed, hair ruffled, and John is sure he doesn’t look any better himself. Daron just stares up at him in a way that makes John think of other things and smiles.

“I guess we’ll never know.” He says laughing and John raises his eyebrows in question. The thought is lost as Shavo passes the bong to John. This time he is slightly proud of himself for not coughing. The dizziness is back at full blow and his head finds itself on Shavo’s shoulder temporarily. He watches as Serj smirks at Shavo in a knowing way and John wonders why. It must be related to him, right?

“Never thought I’d say this to you,” Shavo starts, his voice reverberating through John, shaking him with every sound. “But I really like the way you smell, dude.” He says as he breathes deeply, getting closer to him ever so slightly so he can smell John better. John’s heart leaps at that and he giggles.

“Thanks, dude.” He nuzzles his nose at Shavo’s hoodie breathing in deeply. “You smell great as well.” His body feels so light, he feels like he can do just about anything, yet he wants to do nothing. He wants to cuddle up to Shavo, possibly Serj and Daron too, and just stay there, hold and be held.

He raises his head from Shavo’s head and notices how three pairs of eyes are looking right at him.

“We would like that very much.” Shavo says in his every so mysterious voice while craning his neck and getting so close to John’s. The kiss sends thrills of electricity down John’s spine as he breathes in sharply in shock. Shavo pulls back smirking smugly at John’s reaction in a way that’s so hot, so… Shavo. Serj is looking right through him with this dark, hungry look that he has never seen on him before. Daron is just as interested in their little transaction. John gulps.

There is suddenly so much attention directed towards him and he can feel himself coming apart. There is just so much he can take and he can feel his cheeks blushing.

“Yeah,” Serj says, “we most definitely should do that sometimes.” Mortified at the idea that the guys have heard his crazy mind ramblings he has the sudden desire to disappear. Hell, he wishes earth could swallow him whole in this exact moment. But something about their full attention is so addictive, so sweet, so irresistible.

“Don’t you get all shy on us, Johnny boy.” Daron starts. “There is no reason.” He takes John’s right hand on his both hands kissing it softly and John’s eyes feel like they will bulge out of his skull, breath picking up, unsure. Daron giggles then, voice timid, sound drawn out, and John laughs as well. He laughs and laughs, until the situation is forgotten.

He laughs until the feeling of being appreciated is replaced slowly with the feeling of being provoked… the feeling of being played.

The high won’t keep him from falling hard on his face for long.

*

Unsure of the state of conscious the guys were in that night, and unclear on how much exactly they remember, John tries to play it cool and stay away from the boys for a while. Preferably until he makes sure that all is forgotten.

It’s not easy at all.

The boys seem to be at every turn he takes, like they materialize out of thin air. Suddenly they all want to socialize, which is crazy considering they have been practically living together for the past few days as they work for the album has just started. Avoiding them is hard, but not impossible… at least John hopes so.

*

John enters the living room at the recording house they have rented. On the couch stands a very suspiciously looking Shavo, wearing a shirt most definitely belongs to Serj. It is quite hard to tell lately, really, John feels like there is no ‘his’ anymore, only ‘ours’. His life has started spiraling down ever since that night at Serj’s house, and John has a feeling that if the album doesn’t end him, these boys will. He feels tired.

Shavo is giving him this pointed look and John has the feeling that that’s all the interaction they have been having since that night.

Never taking his eyes away from John, he puts a cigarette between his lips and sets it ablaze.

“Hey there, Johnny boy.” He smirks, hollowing his cheeks around the smoke and sitting further back down in the couch as he opens his legs more.

“Hi.” John responds, and it comes off as strangled and weak and he wants to die in that single moment. He doesn’t know why simple communication is so hard for him these days. He hates what his life has become. These are his brothers, he shouldn’t feel this way around them.

But he does.

“Move out of the way, will you?” Realizing he is still standing in the doorway, he moves to the side, startled by Daron. The younger enters the room and plops down on the couch by Shavo’s side.

With characteristic sass, his hand reaches for Shavo’s cigarette, taking it from his hands and taking a long drag. Shavo raises an eyebrow at the younger and then breaks into laughter.

“Taking my clothes _and_ my cigarettes? What’s next baby boy?” _Baby boy?_ John watches in utter confusion as Daron laughs at the pet name. Since when does Shavo call him that? Since when does Daron accept pet names without jumping at people’s throats.

“You.” Daron answers in a sultry tone and John gulps, feeling frozen where he stands.

“All of you.” Daron ads after a short pause, dreamy eyed as he blows out the smoke. John is pretty sure he is starting to sweat.

_What are they playing at, now?_ John thinks to himself and Daron raises his eyes up at him. He wonders whether the younger is high, but he doesn’t show any signs of high… only his general weirdness.

They’re both staring at him, not even blinking and John starts to get uncomfortable.

“What?” John asks. The stare continues. “You are staring,” he says, “you guys high or something?” Shavo smirks at that.

“You heard him,” he says smugly, “what baby boy wants, baby boy gets.” Daron giggles sweetly at that and John believes that if he had longer hair he would totally twirl them around as Shavo said that.

“Fuck off, man!” John scoffs. “What kind of joke is this?”

“This is not a joke.” Daron simply says.

“Fuck off, bro!” He says, louder this time. “I ain’t gay.”

Shavo and Daron continue staring at him in the same way, somewhat smug and knowingly and John simply flips them off as he leaves the room.

-

He finds Serj in the kitchen, mulling over a mug of tea with his elbows on the table as his palms cover his face.

“Since when do you drink, tea?” John teases and Serj breathes out in an overly exaggerated way.

“Since when do you actually wake up and roam the land of the living?” The older bites back, but it comes off as muffled.

“Hey, fuck you, man!” John laughs. The scoff has no malice in it. “Shavo and Daron are being weird, though.” He takes a seat on the table, next to Serj.

“Sometimes I think they are cut from exactly the same cloth.” Serj says, shaking his head as he stares at the mug as if it’s withholding some planet threatening information. _Everybody seems to be in their own heads today,_ John ponders.

“Do you think they…” The drummer starts, but doesn’t know how to finish that question. They must be up to another prank and Serj would know, right? Even if they have something between them, John doesn’t know how that is any of his business, how it affects him or why on earth he is asking Serj, of all people, about it.

He likes to think that it is none of his business, but Shavo and Daron being possibly gay provokes feelings in him that he doesn’t know how to perceive.

“They what?” Serj asks, eyes still fixed on the mug.

“Nevermind.” John mumbles and stays silent, hoping Serj won’t budge him to continue this. He doesn’t even know where all of this is going.

“Are you homophobic, John?” It is simply a four worded question that shouldn’t mean anything. It hits right home.

“No.” John answers. His own voice doesn’t convince him, John thinks gritting his teeth together. There are some moments of pause.

“Are you gay, John?” Serj asks again with such nonchalance that is similar to the tone of a person talking about the weather.

“No.” He says harsher than he means to. Serj turns to look at him with such expressionless eyes and John can taste secondhand disappointment on his tongue.

“I don’t believe you.” His tone is challenging, yet his face shows no signs of emotion. He has rarely seen boredom in the older guy’s face, but this looks something close to it.

“I’m not gay,” he spats, trying to sound convincing. He doesn’t like this anymore, something tells him he was better off in the room with Shavo and John. Serj simply chuckles at that. It angers John.

“You tell yourself that.” The older says, turning his attention to the tea. Somehow that simple action angers him even more.

“Oh, yeah? What makes you think that?” John all but raises his voice, turning in his chair to face Serj.

Serj turns then, limbs moving slowly, like some type of savanna predator, and he suddenly looks so big and downright terrifying. His stare is challenging, among other things he cannot identify.

Serj’s lips crash with his own as his big hands grab the sides of his face. It’s shocking and exciting at the same time. Serj’s smell surrounds him, luring him in, tempting him. He kisses back. The kiss is needy, rushed, heated and it seems to end way too soon for John.

“What were you saying?” Serj asks, lips forming into a smirk. John wants to smack that smirk away.

“You cannot fool me, baby, I’ve noticed the way you look at me, the way you look at us.” He licks his lips as his eyes skim hungrily over all that John’s existence is.

Realization kicks in then, like a cold bucket of ice, right into his chest as it takes his whole body in no time. He runs before Serj can kiss him again.

Anxiety pumps through his veins as he makes his way to the porch. There is so much air, but he has suddenly forgotten how to breathe. He feels like dying.

He thinks of the kiss, of Serj, of Daron’s words. They all sound so sweet, so comforting… so good to be true. The urge to give in to his needs consumes him, reduces him to ashes, but his parent’s picture in his head is quick to shake him into the colds of what his reality actually is. He wants to cry.

_Men do not cry. Don’t you dare cry!_

He doesn’t want to get back to the bedroom he shares with Serj, he doesn’t feel sane enough to do that. He waits a while and then cautiously heads in to grabs a bottle of scotch from the now deserted kitchen and sits back on the porch.

He doesn’t move from there until the bottle is halved.

_

When it does get dark and when the effects of the scotch have all been replaced with the bone chilling cold of that afternoon John decides to go in. His head is thundering, although he has not yet slept. He feels like if he falls asleep now he will never wake up.

Ignoring the need to head to the kitchen for a glass of water and some painkillers from the fear of encountering any of the boys and considering the fact that Serj almost never sleeps, John decides to head for his room. His mindfully light steps pace rather quickly around the house until he reaches his room.

He opens the door.

Standing on his knees on his bed and facing the door exists a very disheveled Daron. That’s the first thing John notices.

Second thing he notices is that Daron is wearing his blue periwinkle hoodie, that reaches his naked thighs. He looks uncharacteristically out of it as he stands with his eyes closed, mouth slightly parted as- _Oh my fucking god!_

The third thing, and maybe the one that will send him to the grave early, is Shavo standing right behind him. Daron moans, throwing his head back as Shavo has a hand wrapped around his middle, and the other one around Daron’s cock, as it moves swiftly under John’s hoodie. John doesn’t dare make a sound.

Upon seeing him, Shavo smirks, creating and holding eye contact with John as he whispers to Daron;

“Don’t open your eyes, yet, baby boy.” It’s an order, said so softly but an order nonetheless and John feels all his blood go south as Daron timidly nods and closes his eyes tighter.

Never taking his eyes away from John, Shavo licks a long fat stripe along Daron’s neck, biting down at the end and Daron grunts.

“M-more, a-ah, please.” He moves his hips in unison with Shavo’s hand that seems to be moving faster. Using the hand around Daron’s middle, Shavo lifts up Daron’s hoodie so that John can see.

“Not yet,” Shavo orders very close to his ear, John listens. “You cum, when I tell you to cum.” By the look of Daron’s member they seem to have been going at it for quite some time. Daron’s head glistens with precum and John’s mouth runs dry. Everything about the scene unfolding in front of him seems so unreal, so good to be true.

“You smell so good baby.” Shavo goes again, and the younger moans as Shavo runs his thumb over his head, teasing. “You smell so delicious for me.”

Daron nods, lost in the haze of pleasure and Shavo speaks again;

“I wish John was here right now to see the condition you are in.” John’s eyes widen, he is pretty sure his erection is visible through his sweatpants at this point. He should do something about it before it becomes painful, yet he cannot take his eyes off the two. “I wish he could see the pliant slut you have turned to. His smell is all it takes to make you unwind.” Shavo continues talking and it has the same effect on both guys and by the looks of it Daron seems pretty close. He rests his head back on Shavo’s chest, all flushed and sweaty, pinkish skin contrasting with John’s hoodie. It is an unholy image, one that will remain in John’s head even after death.

Shavo continues his ministrations, eyes never leaving John’s. “You like the attention don’t you.” Daron writhes under his words. “You like having all three of us all over you, it’s the only way to make you behave.” Daron’s sounds keep getting louder and his voice is absolutely unreal as he breathes out;

“Yours, only yours.” He responds feverishly.

“Don’t you wish John was here looking at this, looking at what an absolute slut you are for him? What an absolute slut you are for all of us?” Shavo makes his hand movements even faster,

“Open your eyes.” Shavo orders.

“J-John.” Daron gasps, Shavo’s hand sending him over the edge and he cums with such delicious sounds. Shavo kisses his neck, whispering praises and John seems frozen to the spot as he is unable to look away from the delicious scene unfolding right in front of him.

He doesn’t feel like he can run away this time. He doesn’t want to.

With newfound force he paces towards the boys, crossing the few steps distance that separates them and kisses a still hazed Daron. Daron whines, kissing back feverishly as his slender hands roam John’s torso going further down until they reach the hem of his sweatpants. Breaking the kiss, Daron looks at John with pleading eyes as his hands cup his erection. John gulps, but nods nonetheless.

One of Daron’s hands reaches inside his boxers, stroking him with firm yet slow motions and John moans at that. Daron then gingerly drops a kiss on the side of his neck as he crouches on the level of John’s crotch. John’s heart starts racing faster as Daron looks up at him with such eyes… so innocent yet so mischievous, smiling oh so innocently up at him as he pulls down the older guy’s pants along with boxers and his eyes shine upon looking at John’s member, giving it an experimental lick.

His attention, however, is derived by big hands that grab John by the sides of his face and kiss him. Kissing Shavo is way different than the other two guys. There is the need for dominance, the feeling so raw yet gentler than Serj, and John feels like he can’t breathe but at the same time cannot get enough. He moans in Shavo’s mouth as Daron starts sucking him, stroking with his hands what he cannot reach as he hollows his cheeks so sinfully over John’s dick. It’s unholy… John wouldn’t have it any other way.

He starts roaming, feeling through Shavo’s body like he has wanted to do for so long. The whole situation feels unreal to him as he muffles another moan on Shavo’s neck. Shavo runs his hand through his hair, and John bites down on his neck gently, suckling and bruising the skin there much like Shavo had done to Daron earlier. The feeling to claim, to hold, to be loved and to love gets mixed with instinctual feelings that only multiply as his hands reach Shavo’s belt buckle.

It’s weird holding a cock that is not his, but John gets used to the feeling rather quickly, motions forming into a tight grip, hand tipping a bit to the left, just like John likes to do to himself. He can hear Shavo’s content as he kisses his neck and lips and whatever he can reach while spilling sweet praises in-between. John’s ministrations seem to stall for a moment as Daron deepthroats him, gagging on the process. John feels like he’s going to die.

“Just like that, Johnny boy, so good for me.” Shavo whispers in his ear, biting his earlobe and that is enough stimulation to get John tripping over the edge. With urgency he pushes Daron off of him, managing just in time and the fucker opens his mouth to catch John’s load. It’s like the entire situation was dug out of John’s wildest dreams. Smiling, Daron swallows and pecks the head of John’s penis as he stands up to kiss Shavo.

“Fuck, baby boy, you did so well.” John whispers dazed and Daron smiles at that. Shavo kisses Daron, moaning in his mouth as he comes in John’s hand.

It’s unbelievable, in a way that John will need to relive it again in order to believe it. Seems like the other two think the same.

-

After the heat has died down and Daron has changed into clean, comfortable clothes, they lay in John’s bed, Daron’s eyes being irresistible enough to persuade John into cuddles. Daron lays content in the middle of both boys. The angel is a bit awkward, as the bed is made for two people max, but the slight tightness adds to the close body contact John didn’t know he needed.

Daron’s dressed into another hoodie of his as his face stays buried in the crook of his neck, arm around John’s torso holding rather tightly. Shavo is right behind Daron, pressed tightly to his back, long arm draped over the two of them. The warmth and affection from the boys is both overwhelming and not enough as the feeling to hold and be help wipes out everything else in his mind.

“So, Serj is in it too?” John asks after a pause that’s long enough for him to miss Serj. He wishes the older were beside them and he feels quite guilty for behaving the way he did earlier that day.

“Yeah,” Shavo answers, eyes meeting his. “it hasn’t been a long time, really.” He starts explaining. “We kind of reached the same conclusion around the same time. It all became definitely clear with you, though.”

“Me?” John stammers confused.

“Yeah, I mean there was always some sort of attraction between all of us going back and forth, but you really gave it the final definition to make us reach the idea that we could all be together.” Shavo says as his hand moves from John’s torso to Daron’s hair. “It was clear to us that you liked us, but no matter how many signs we gave you, you would always shy away from us. It is kind of the reason why we rented a recording house.” John feels stupid as he starts to piece the parts of the puzzle together. It all makes sense.

“So Serj has been sleeping with you guys?” He has to know.

“Yes.” A tinge of jealousy takes over his whole body. He cannot help but to feel left out, forgotten, even though he knows full well that he has brought this upon himself.

“Is he mad at me?” He asks meekly. John knows how he reacted today. He has been practically a dick to everybody and they do not deserve this. He doesn’t deserve to be held like this.

“Hey,” Shavo grabs his attention, “stop it.” His hand moves to John’s cheekbone, caressing it softly and Daron’s arm holds him tighter. “We don’t know what shit you have been going through lately, but we none of us are mad at you. It’s ok. Serj is not mad at you.”

“I just want him to know that I am sorry, and I don’t mean to push him away. It’s just that…” He can feel himself tearing up and he doesn’t mean to. He doesn’t want to ruin the moment with tears. _Men don’t cry._

“It’s ok.” Serj’s voice is heard. John’s heart skips a beat as he turns carefully to look at the doorway where Serj stands. “We understand.” He says.

He moves towards them with a soft smile that contrasts how big and manly he looks to John and crouches down to kiss his forehead. The contact makes his chest flutter and he smiles back.

“John wants you to join us.”Daron peeks his head up from where he has been hiding in John neck and Serj smiles brighter at that.

“I’d be glad to.” Serj responds as he moves behind his own bed and starts pushing it to join John’s. He climbs on the bed, coming right behind John and laying down, body pressed against the younger’s back. His body warmth feels so sweet and combined with Daron and Shavo’s it makes John forget about the chilly weather, about the world, about the album, about it all.

He closes his eyes and maybe for the first time in his life lets himself be held and holds back with just as much love and affection.

It has never felt so good to be John.


End file.
